


The Gentleman

by areyoukiddingme



Category: Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell (TV)
Genre: Bargaining with human life, F/M, Fairies, Fantasy, Kidnapping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-02
Updated: 2015-12-02
Packaged: 2018-05-04 14:03:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5336753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/areyoukiddingme/pseuds/areyoukiddingme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A woman makes a bargain with a fairy in order to save her friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Gentleman

A cold, dead corpse in the middle of the room, her delicate fingers draped limply over her chest and her once animated face now lifeless and staring coldly at the ceiling. The door clicked open and disturbed her peace as a magician in a distressed white wig shuffled into the room, locking the door behind him. He placed a heavy book on the table, sending the dust motes flying into the air as he scanned the pages, bringing a candle to his side before muttering a mystical chant and lighting the candle.

The corpse screamed fitfully before bolting upright to the intense joy of her family members and one friend who had heard that she was going to be resurrected and had waited patiently downstairs with the woman's family, picking at her nails and nervously glancing upwards every now and again until she heard the deranged, pained sounds of life echoing from upstairs.

"It's so very strange, I do believe I may have been dead for a moment." The once corpse murmured, holding her hand to the light as the magician hurriedly packed up his equipment and rushed outside. The woman's friend paled and heart quickened as she saw her friend alive yet again while the family members hung back, some genuflecting and some simply not believing their own eyes.

"Emma. You're alive." She stumbled out eventually, watching her friend simply rise up off of her deathbed.

"Isabella, what are you doing here?" She asked brightly, unaware of the miracle that had just been performed on her.

"You were dead but now you're alive."

"Do you want to dance?"

"Pardon?" Isabella asked as Emma roped her in, giggling like a child as she swung them both around.

"Emma, your finger!" Isabella exclaimed as Emma went to grab her hand.

"I don't feel it." Emma shrugged. Isabella continued to dance with her friend as no-one else dared approach and tried to lose herself in the elation, but she couldn't get it out of her mind that there was something wrong, something not quite right about that missing finger which she'd never noticed was missing before.

The fairy stared at the happy reunion from behind the mirror, relishing in the triumph of a new beautiful companion, but already lusting after another; her pretty friend whom she'd danced with. Determined to devise a plan to ensnare her, he turned from the happy scene back to Lost Hope.

He too tried to lose himself in dancing and spirit and merriment but it couldn't be done; he couldn't get that young woman out of his mind. Emma, the woman who he'd bargained for earlier arrived, bewildered, at the dance. He quickly swooped in, admiring her clothing and pretty face before leading her on a few dances. Still, he couldn't stop thinking of her friend. Frustrated, he turned from the dance and moved towards his corridor of mirrors instead, passing through until he stopped in front of the one which held the young woman whom he lusted after.

Peering in, he could see Isabella idly reading a book by a large window, a candle flickering next to her as night had already drawn in. The fairy glanced around before entering the mortal world, a brief chill passing over him as he switched dimensions. He was in a large bedroom with the main article standing at the centre while various other furnishings were scattered around the room. Isabella was sat in the window seat, her eyes scanning her book and occasionally turning the page to alight upon a new amount of text to devour. The fairy stared at her; he'd never quite understood the obsession Englishmen had with their books.

The clock on the near wall clicked then chimed merrily, Isabella glancing up and closing her book slowly before yawning. She crossed over to the side table and placed her book down before reaching around to undo the clasps of her bodice, thinking that she was unobserved. And she might very well had been; the fairy had made it so he could not be seen or observed from the human eye. The fairy stayed, entranced by the girl, until he realised what he was doing and mentally scolded himself. He wanted her to be a pleasant surprise for later, as he did know there was going to be a later. He would make sure of that.

Isabella floated in and out of consciousness, slowly fluttering her eyes open only to see a pale face with piercing blue eyes looking down at her. She blinked, starting upwards only to find that there was nobody there, no face, no person in her room. She passed a hand over her eyes, thinking it all a figment of her imagination as she regained her breath and stepped out of bed, starting to dress as she intended to visit her friend to check if she was indeed still alive or not. While she was changing, she couldn't get rid of the feeling or terror she'd experienced in her bed. It strongly reminded her of the fear that ran through her when she noticed Emma's finger was missing. It all felt so very wrong.

* * *

A few weeks later, Isabella was rushing beside a street of stately homes, holding her bonnet against the wind before sharply turning off, checking the house number while knocking at the door rapidly. A ruffian-looking servant answered, leaning against the doorpost with mild curiosity as he stared at her.

"Hello, I'm here for your master. Is he home?" She asked, desperation piquing in her voice and eyes.

"You mean Mr Norrell?" He asked, tipping his head.

"Yes. He's the one."

"And who are you?"

"I'm Isabella. I'm a friend of Emma- I mean, Miss Wintertowne." She said, her irritation mounting.

"Follow me." The servant instructed, his tone blasé. He turned and walked lazily down the corridor, not even taking her bonnet or shawl so she had to remove them both as she was walking. He led her to what appeared to be a large library, books lining every inch of the room and a stout man at the centre, barely even glancing up as they both entered the room.

"A Miss Isabella to see you sir." The servant slurred before resting against the nearby wall. She curtly nodded before approaching the magician who was avidly leant over a large, tattered book.

"Hello Mr Norrell, I'm Isabella, I wonder if you know me? I'm a friend of Emma, the woman you brought back to life."

"There are so many people I'm introduced to." He answered vaguely in a thick Yorkshire accent, still not looking up at her.

"Well I didn't come here for a social call." She spoke sharply, her desperation fraying at her nerves. "I'm here because I'm worried about her. I fear it may be something to do with your magic."

Norrell suddenly looked up, his full attention concentrated on her.

"What's wrong?"

Isabella glanced back at the servant pointedly and Norrell fortunately understood the hint.

"Childermass, leave us."

The servant slumped up off of the wall reluctantly, closing the door behind him as he left, only to press the keyhole next to his ear as soon as the couple started to talk.

"I fear she's gone mad." Isabella spoke in a hushed tone, glancing nervously over her shoulder.

"Miss Wintertowne? In what way?" Norrell asked curiously, the only evidence of anxiety showing in his hands nervously being wrung underneath the desk.

"Well, it all started off perfectly well, she was alive, loved dancing, loved her husband enough to marry him the very next day. But then she began to behave... oddly..."

"Go on."

"A couple of days later, she stopped dancing and claimed she hated the whole notion of it. Then in a few days she wreaked havoc on every mirror she could find, thinking that they were bad in some way and she had to be restrained. Even the bells distress her. You see, Mr Norrell, I don't believe she's slept since you brought her to life again, she has these dark shadows under her eyes and if her family knew I was telling you all of this then I would get into so much trouble."

"You were right to bring this to my attention." He stood up slowly, starting to pace the room. "It could be something to do with my spell, I was not familiar with it at the time."

"And then there's also the thing with her finger."

"What?"

"Her missing finger. I've asked all of the doctors and people involved with her after she died but none of them know where her finger has gone. She certainly had one before."

"I'm afraid I can clear that small detail up. He had to take something of hers to complete the spell."

"He?"

"I have told you too much." Mr Norrell blurted, attempting to push her out of the room. "I shall think of something."

"Please Mr Norrell." She said, fighting against him. "I will do anything to save my friend."

"Anything?" He asked, pausing the struggle.

"Anything." She repeated, staring earnestly at him. "They are talking about sending her to a madhouse. I don't want to lose her."

He hesitated, glancing at the mirror then back at the young woman.

"There is the possibility that I could change Miss Wintertowne's circumstances right at this moment." He spoke conspiratorially.

"Then do it, Mr Norrell!"

"I must warn you, you may end up with the same fate as Miss Wintertowne-"

"I want my friend back." She urged. Mr Norrell nodded curtly.

"Then pass me that candle."

Childermass silently called out to his master, telling him that this was an awful idea, a bad plan but he couldn't interrupt them lest he be accused of listening in. So he had to wait in torture while Norrell executed his worst idea yet in the other room.

A few mutterings and chants later, there was a gentleman standing silently at the other end of the room, staring at the pair. Isabella started back initially before looking more closely at his face, cocking her head slightly.

"Don't I... know you?" She asked, dazed, before starting to walk towards him. The gentleman shifted his gaze to her and smirked slightly.

"I feel like we've met before. In a dream perhaps." Isabella tried in vain to pull the memory from the depths of her brain.

"Indeed we have. When you were in-between the realms of awake and unconscious." The gentleman spoke for the first time, his voice eloquent as he kept his eyes steadily trained on the woman approaching him.

"So what am I now?" She asked dreamily, reaching her hand up as if to touch the ethereal man in front of her.

He grabbed her wrist sharply, halting her progress but also making her jump and clench her fist. He leaned closer to her, arching his eyebrow.

"Which do you think?"

Norrell cleared his throat from the back of the room and they turned, both having completely forgotten that he was there. The gentleman reluctantly released her wrist while she stepped backwards towards the safety of an Englishman.

"Who is this man Mr Norrell?"

"This is no man, Miss Isabella. This is a fairy."

The fairy tipped his chin up regally, perturbed that he had switched from being a curiosity to an animal in a zoo so quickly.

"I prefer otherworldly being." He interjected. "Fairies have such negative connotations in this realm."

"But there's no such thing." Isabella laughed away her disbelief, only falling silent when she saw Norrell's grave face.

"There was no such thing as magic before me."

"So... he brought back my friend?"

"In a sense."

"I possess more power than this magician can even dream of." The fairy boasted, coming closer to the two.

"So it is you that has made her mad."

The fairy looked taken aback at such forwardness; from a woman, no less.

"Why have I been summoned here?" He asked indignantly.

"This woman is a friend of the one you brought back to life. You tricked me into our last bargain-" The fairy tried to interject but Norrell didn't let him. "-and this young woman is unhappy with the arrangements. She says she is willing to do anything for her friend to go back to her normal self."

The fairy couldn't believe his luck; he had been plotting ever since he saw the beautiful young woman, but now she just walks towards him and practically begs to be taken. He would have to lose his newly acquired gem, but he had a feeling he could recover, in time.

"Very well. What do you think you could offer me, my dear?" He stepped forward, beginning to circle the defenceless woman.

"Well, I suppose I should be able to do whatever you are making Emma do."

"A good deal more, I should think, otherwise there should be no use for an exchange."

"Are you going to free her or not?" Isabella turned to keep up with his pacing, refusing to have her back to him.

"That depends on your tone." The fairy's voice suddenly sharpened as he pressed his index finger to her chin, the point of his nail digging into her skin. She felt coils creeping around her wrist and struggled, only to find that she was too late and they'd already secured her wrists to her side. She struggled, animal instincts kicking in as she desperately fought against her bonds while simultaneously trying to bite the finger that kept her head suspended, but his reflexes were sharp so she didn't hit her target. The message got across though.

"Do you want to help your friend?" He asked slowly, dangerously. She had only just recovered from her panic enough to nod her head, not even fully processing what she'd almost done.

"Then I shall leave a certain article of Miss Wintertowne's with the magician, I trust he will know what to do with it." The fairy said, glancing at the magician who nodded. "Now, Isabella... Do you wish to go to the dance?"

She glanced nervously to Norrell then back to the gentleman before nodding.

"Yes. Yes I do."

He wrapped his arms around her as she exhaled shakily, warily looking at the magician as the fairy enclosed her. Norrell approached the candle flickering at the centre of the room, eying the gentleman who was pulling the woman's hair aside to expose her neck while she stared at the ceiling, resigned. A thought began to formulate in his head that perhaps this wasn't the best idea. The fairy's cold blue eyes alighted on Norrell a fraction of a second before he blew on the candle and both of them disappeared from sight, to another dimension where he could do anything he wanted with her. Norrell slumped to the ground; definitely not a good idea.


End file.
